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Lapidary	By : Savaialian Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 1563 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Doctor Who fandom, nor to I make money from writing about it. I use their creations with due respect.

Chapter List
- 1-Lapidary
- 2-TWO
- 3-THREE
- 4-FOUR
- 5-FIVE
- 6-SIX
- 7-SEVEN
- 8-EIGHT
- 9-NINE
- 10-TEN
- 11-ELEVEN
- 12-TWELVE
- 13-THIRTEEN
- 14-FOURTEEN
- 15-FIFTEEN
- 16-SIXTEEN
- 17-SEVENTEEN
- 18-EIGHTEEN
- 19-NINETEEN
- 20-TWENTY
- 21-TWENTY-ONE
- 22-TWENTY-TWO
- 23-TWENTY-THREE
- 24-TWENTY-FOUR
- 25-EPILOGUE
- 4
- 5
- 6
“Well, there’s one thing off my list,” the Master said. We’d returned to the palace for a formal meal at his insistence. Today was some sort of special holiday in Seldatian culture, or religion, I wasn’t certain which, and the entire palace gathered for the meal. I sat at the Master’s side at one table on a dais, and below us everyone else sat. “Step farming in this hilly countryside should make sense already. I don’t know why they didn’t think of it themselves a thousand years ago. Even your precious humans made that logical leap.”
I smiled at his careful dig at my favorite species. “You married one,” I reminded.
The Master shot me a sour look as our server poured wine for us. “If you’d ever slept beside one of your companions you’d know why. They’re nearly twenty degrees hotter than us.”
“So, sunning yourself on a human in the same way a lizard sprawls over a hot rock?” I grinned, thinking of that. I easily pictured him wallowing around on someone to get warm, because he was hedonistic.
He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the ritual dancers spilled into the great hall and began their routine, which drew his attention more than my teasing. I saw why quickly. They were all women, beautiful women with artful, black eye paint and wearing flowing, colorful scarves. Not a single one could be considered less than perfectly fit, and their dark, oiled skin caught the lamp light like burnished gold. I couldn’t see their musical accompaniment very well, but the drums and lutes were easily heard.
I picked at my meal, uninterested in eating until the first course of salad was whisked away to be replaced by a yellowish soup that smelled wonderful. The wine was sweet and fruity and without much leg, meant to be easily drinkable and not very intoxicating. I explored the flavor and texture of the thick, hot bread between us and decided I’d have to figure out how it was made.
The music got faster and faster, as did the dancers. They spun, leaped and swirled through the room with dizzying speed and perfect flow. Some sort of heavy, cloying incense hung in the room. I started feeling a bit woozy and quit eating.
The dance ended abruptly, with all the participants collapsing onto the floor, breathing hard. No one clapped, so I held back. The Master stood up, gesturing them to do the same. They obeyed and lined up before our dais. The Master took a bag from his belt and descended. He walked down the line of them, stopping at each dancer to place a coin in her left palm. When finished, they all filed out and he returned to his seat. The conversations in the room resumed at a polite level.
“The dancers survive on the emperor’s funding, mainly,” the Master informed, picking up his soup bowl and drinking from it directly. I belatedly noticed that everyone else was doing the same, and that I’d doubtless been rude to eat it with the odd, deeply-bowled spoon in my place setting. “They do make money on private celebrations with wealthy, upper class citizens.”
“Lot of cultures do the same,” I commented. I had a feeling he’d tipped the dancers pretty well.
“Yes, but this culture doesn’t allow for male dancers. I’m trying to change that. It isn’t against their religion, but it’s never been done.” The Master shrugged and cut into his medium rare meat. His small, strong, elegant hands worked with precision. “I don’t understand gender bias,” he confessed.
“That’s because we can regenerate into either sex,” I pointed out. “Most other races don’t come close to our biological structure. They’re stuck with what they get.”
“Which ought to make them more respectful, not less,” he argued. He chewed a bite of the unknown, barely cooked animal, eyes floating around the room. “I’ve never seen a culture so hung up on who-does-what. They don’t even allow the men to cook, or the women to hunt.”
“And you have to be careful what you change, or how much,” I added. “The Prime Directive wouldn’t allow you to do anything at all.”
“Star Trek again,” the Master said, chuckling. “Well, I’d ignore the Prime Directive in any case. Change isn’t always wrong.”
“And you’re arrogant enough to assume you know what’s best.” I tried my own pseudo-steak, finding it to be the same thing I’d eaten yesterday.
“I usually do know what’s best,” he argued. “Whether I heed that and do it is another thing.”
“You know, you’re really different,” I told him. “I’m hoping this isn’t an elaborate ploy to turn the screw on me.”
“Now who’s arrogant? It isn’t always about you.” The Master sampled his vegetables, his face relaxing as he found them good. “I’ve been here minding my business for quite awhile. I didn’t expect you to stumble upon me. A nice surprise, but not anticipated.” He paused to cock his head to one side and let a thought go through. “Well, not anymore expected than usual; our paths cross very often,” he amended. “Just as often without my influence as with it, actually.”
I heard the sounds of shouting and scuffling from outside the hall, even over the live music. The Master gave a short sigh. “Sit still,” he ordered me, and before I could even get indignant over his highhandedness, two men burst into the room.
I watched the tallest one, a grizzly looking man in dirty clothes, level a long, curiously made gun at the Master. “You don’t belong on the throne, you alien!” He shouted.
The Master picked up the heavily made serving tray and got it eye level just as the gun went off. The tray made the bullet ricochet toward the ceiling. Just as fast, he picked up his dinner knife and sent it into the throat of the gunner. Blood erupted like a geyser, and the assassin staggered back before falling on the floor, gurgling.
The second assassin stood frozen, as still and amazed as the rest of the people in the room. We all watched the Master stand and gracefully descend the dais, all flowing black confidence. “Didn’t know what you were up against?” He asked the second man in a kind tone. His guards started to surge forward, but he lifted a hand and they stopped. “Why would you try to kill me?” He asked, his voice still light and gentle. “I’ve brought prosperity and an end to famine.”
“You… you…” The man shook his head as if confused, and I knew right then that the Master had a hold on his mind. “You want our women to profane the learning houses,” he managed to answer. His face hardened as that assumed sin brought anger in through the Master’s imposed will. “You’ll take them away from their place.”
The Master, standing in a rapidly spreading pool of blood from the first assassin, nodded thoughtfully. “You think a cock entitles you to decide things,” he conjectured. “Well, it really doesn’t. I’m the one who decides things, and I assure you it isn’t on the merit of my sexual organs.”
The assassin began to choke. He clawed at his throat as if he couldn’t get any air, and the Master watched dispassionately as the man became desperate.
“Master.” I spoke in our shared language. “Please, don’t kill him.”
“Why?” He didn’t turn to look at me. “He’ll try to kill me again, first chance. His beliefs are ridiculous. No one with any sense believes restricting one half of the population is beneficial; it isn’t logical.”
“He was born and raised into that way of thinking,” I argued. “It isn’t his fault.”
“I don’t believe that and neither do you,” the Master replied. The man was at his feet now, making horrible noises and writhing in his friend’s blood, but the Master didn’t have a speck of emotion on his face. “Intelligent creatures question what they’re taught, Doctor.”
“You’re going to kill him for his lesser intelligence?” I felt sick at seeing him fall back onto his murderous ways. He’d been doing so well. “Throw him in prison, or try to reform him, but don’t kill him, please.”
The Master finally turned his head to look at me. The man collapsed and began taking great, greedy gasps of air, crying as he did so. With a gesture, the Master had his guards take the half-dead assassin, and they carried him away. He didn’t need to tell them what to do with the man.
Returning to his seat, the Master took a sip of wine. The band started back up, and conversation resumed, but many eyes were upon their emperor, a man who could choke someone to death without laying a finger upon them. “You’ve just become my justiciar, Doctor,” the Master said, his voice none too pleased. “I hope you’re up to the task, because you demonstrated to about three hundred people that I’ll listen to you. That means they’ll come to you in order to pitch their problems to me.” He turned his dark, bottled-sherry eyes upon me, and if I’d ever seen him serious, it wasn’t as serious as now. “If you swan off on me, and them, you’re a miserable coward.”
Oh, I’d stepped in something foul. I’d made myself his personal adjudicator, and now his subjects would hope to get what they wanted from their emperor through me. I couldn’t just dash back in my TARDIS if things got unpleasant.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, still speaking Gallifreyan, mainly because he hadn’t quit yet, either. “I didn’t mean to make things more difficult for you. But, you’d already made an example out of one man. You didn’t need to kill the other.”
“So says the man who killed billions of baby Racnoss,” the Master returned evenly, not batting an eyelash. “Dealing death one-on-one is distasteful to you, perhaps? If you don’t have to look your enemy in the eyes, is it easier to stomach?”
Mortified and sickened, I took my eyes away from him and stared down at my plate. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in my defense. Because, he was mostly right.
**
“Quit your moping.” The Master looked up from his work to glare at me. “At least quit moping so loudly.” We’d gone to the senate house, and he was now drawing up the paperwork to register me officially as his justiciar. His chief advisor. As soon as I signed his pompous paperwork I’d be responsible for just about every rule these people had, and obligated to keep everyone, even him, straight on the law.
No pressure.
“I’m not thinking loudly,” I protested. “My mind is closed off to you and anyone else.”
“You’re twitching, fidgeting, tapping, sighing, and squirming,” the Master replied. “You are virtually unable to keep still or keep quiet. If you ask me, a sanctimonious little swot like yourself is a perfect High Advisor.” He dipped his quill and began writing again, his movements tight. “You’d better live up to my expectations.”
“What if I don’t?” I asked.
“Then, I’ll throw you in the harem and deal with you on a level you can’t possibly misunderstand,” the Master answered promptly, causing a shockwave to go through my chest. “If anyone needed restrained, whipped, and taught how to properly beg, it’s you.”
Outrageous heat soared into my face. I quickly put my head down. That wasn’t enough, so I got up and went to his office window, opened it, and sat in the large frame facing out. I didn’t have a bit of trouble seeing him treating me to whips, choke-chains, and leather straps. He had a highly dominant personality, the worst I’d ever encountered, and he’d always loved capturing me. God, I’d do anything for a good breeze right about now. I’d started sweating. A lot. “You’ve never said ‘please’ and meant in your entire life,” I retaliated.
“I’ve said it twice and I’ll probably never say it again,” he replied swiftly.
“To Ailla?” I asked, knowing I courted disaster with him.
“Now is not the time to test me,” he warned.
I stayed quiet for a very long time, and I felt his tension slowly dissipating. I highly doubted he’d try to throw me in his harem, actually, but tying me down and thrashing the hell out of me…
That could happen…
I wondered what that would be like. Would I cry? I thought I might. I was moved to tears easily in this regeneration. Well, in comparison to others, that is; I tended to shed my tears while desperate or furious this time around. But, Rose had inspired the sort of tears that made me soul sick. Even now when I thought of her, living on a parallel Earth with my half-human duplicate, I got choked up. I hoped she was happy, because I’d have never been able to accomplish that for her.
“Come over here and sign,” the Master said in a tired voice.
I got up, grateful my face had calmed, and went over to him. The document seemed straightforward. If signed, I accepted the role of his advisor. I would have nearly the same standing as he did. I was expected to learn the laws and ensure they were kept. I also would have charge of his domestic situation, though. Like a Victorian butler, I’d be in charge of the servants and the finances, not only in the palace but in the senate.
“You know I’m not really one for giving orders,” I said.
“You’d better learn how to tell the truth soon, or I’ll be beating it out of you,” He said tonelessly.
“As if,” I challenged, daring him to look at me by force of will.
The Master stood up and presented me with the quill, his eyes deadly earnest. “You aren’t screwing up my work here,” he informed. “If you feel free to impose your moralistic crap on me, then you can do it to everyone else.”
“Being in a position of power is-.”
“Satisfying and useful,” the Master interrupted. “Sign, or you’re going straight to my harem.”
“You don’t have anyone in your harem,” I pointed out.
“Then you’ll be the lucky, full-time recipient of all my frustration.” The Master leaned over the desk and pushed the quill closer. “Sign the fucking paper, Doctor.”
I snatched it and signed, knowing I couldn’t get any farther with him if I continued indulging my childish streak. “You might beat me,” I said, “actually, I know you would, but you’d never-.” The look on his face made me cut off my words. I dropped the paper on his desk. “Fine,” I relented. “What now?”
“Now, you read the law books,” the Master replied. “Go to the library and get started. I’m going to bed.”
I let him go, thinking he probably would stay in his bedroom.
He looked very tired.
**
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Lapidary